Panic!
by leftyguitar
Summary: A different kind of Greg story. Is he really as happy and easy going as everyone thinks he is?Lots of dark humor, a bit angsty I'm being a little mean to greggo, but nothing devastating.SophiaGreg Pairing
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: CSI is not mine. Sorry.**

**Spoilers: Season expect for Living Doll, because I don't want to do anything with it until we see the end.**

**A/N: This is a different kind of Greg story. I've done something a little odd to his character for my own purposes. I like to think I've made him a little more interesting then just the happy go lucky Greggo that most people write. If you don't like it, I'm sorry, just please don't flame me. I thought I'd do something a bit different. :p**

Prologue

Just to warn you, I'm just as screwed up as everyone else is. I'm just better at hiding it. No, I'm not the cheerful, happy-go lucky guy my coworkers think I am. It's just easier when they think I am. Don't get me wrong, they're great people. And they are the best at what they do. Sometimes they just care a bit too much. And they sometimes annoy the hell out of me, but I'm not the kind of guy that wants to start a fight just because somebody's a little irritating. Otherwise, I would've killed Hodges a long time ago.

That being said, I'm writing this down because my department ordered shrink says I should. He thinks I'm headed for a breakdown if I don't find a constructive way to vent frustration. I guess playing Halo with Nick just isn't cutting it anymore. Here's hoping a little self-expression goes a long way, so grab a drink, cause our little Greggo's going pour his heart out to you before he blows up at somebody more important then David Hodges. On with my story.

Let's start out by reminding you all I've had a really shitty year. But then, Catherine says I'm having a great year because my work has been impeccable. At least I'm doing something right. Where should we start this, again?

How about the night Sofia and I went to the concert? It's as good a place as any. I had won some VIP tickets to concert over the radio for one of my favorite bands, and thought Sofia might want to come with me. At least we had fun that night, anyway.

**A/N: Interested? This is just a different take on Greg's character, and I'm having fun with it. He may seem a bit a OOC, but that's because I'm soing a different take on him for this story. It will make more sense later in the story. Please review, but no flames. **


	2. A Night With Friends

**Disclaimer: Still not mine.**

**Spoilers: Same**

**A/N: Thanks to all my reviewers! PicseanPal, Here's your cookie. ;)**

**Glad you guys like my story so far. **

A Night Out with Friends

Where was I? Oh, right, the night of the concert. Well, let's see. I was out cold on my old, squishy couch. I wind up falling asleep there more often then my bedroom, which isn't surprising. After almost ten years of working graveyard shift, my body clock is screwed up it doesn't matter what time it is. I usually use either caffeine or alcohol to function depending the time.

So anyway, I was passed out on the couch when I felt a cold, wet nose on my foot. I rolled over, hoping that I was still asleep and this was a dream. My dog nudged me again. Guess he needed a walk. Besides, I was hogging the couch when it's just as much his as mine, and Mutt wasn't going to leave me alone. That's his name, but I'm not the one that gave it to him. Picked him up at the local ASPCA a few years ago. He's a cool dog, a cross between a Golden Retriever and a Siberian Husky. Mutt kinda looks like a well fed and groomed coyote, expect for the old leather collar with his tags on it.

Where was I again? My couch, right. Mutt kept bugging me, so I sat up and grabbed my sandals and his leash. This makes him all happy and he starts bouncing around, wagging his tail. How the hell can I put his leash on when he won't hold still for me?

I roll my eyes and whistle at him. He its, just I trained him, but he's wagging his tail so hard it thumps on the floor loud enough to piss off my downstairs neighbors.

Ken, that's his name, yells at me through the floor. Sounds kind of funny coming from a asshole that likes to blast classical music at six A.M., right when I want to sleep.

I shout an apology and take Mutt outside so he can do his business, and I walk around outside to help wake up. The sun is still a fair distance above the horizon, making it around four in the afternoon. A little earlier then I wanted to get up, but too late to go back to sleep. That's just the kind of luck I have. I should buy lottery tickets.

Mutt and I circle the block, waving to the mean little old ladies and that psychotic Pomeranian that bit me the last time it escaped. Yeah, I get bit a lot by crazy bitches, both two legged and four legged, but that's another story.

We stretch our legs and both feel better by the time we get back to the building and up to my apartment. The clock says it's around four thirty. I start the coffee and take a quick shower. I'm meeting my friend Sofia in a couple hours for dinner and a show. I had won tickets to see Panic! At the Disco. We would even be able to go backstage and hang out with the band after the show. They're all about ten years younger then Sofia and me, but from what I've seen, they're a fun bunch of guys. Besides, I like their music. The one thing that would make it perfect is if I could get Sara to come with me, but she's got plans.

Like I don't know that she's going out with the our boss. Seriously, I'm one of her best friends and a CSI. How could I not know? I know I've had a crush on her forever, but I'm trying to get over it. I just wish she thought she could trust me enough to tell me the truth. I just want her to be happy. I'd like to be happy with her, but I'll settle for the best friend role, however frustrating it can be, at least we can hang out and have a good time.

When's she's not screwing around with our fifty year old, emotionally retarded boss. Which is why I asked Sofia to come with me. We are good friends. She helped me when I was just learning the ropes as a CSI, and I was one the few people that was nice to her when she joined our team. Sara was a bit cold toward her, but that was because of the aforementioned boss. I don't get women sometimes.

After I showered, I changed into a Fall Out Boy tee shirt, and a pair of jeans. This should be a fun evening, provided we don't get called in to work. We had both asked for the night off weeks ago, but our jobs are a bit unpredictable to say the least. Actually, I was little surprised Sofia wanted to come with me, but I guess she needed a break from reality as much as I did.

A little bit of hair gel, and I was almost ready. I looked at my reflection in the grimy mirror for a moment, before deciding that a little bit of eyeliner wouldn't be too much. A few minutes later headed out of the bathroom and into my bedroom. I grabbed a jacket, and, for the finishing touch, my old fedora. I walked over to my bureau to grab our tickets. They weren't there. See, you're beginning to understand the kind of luck I have.

I must have left them in my locker. Fortunately, Mutt had woken me up in time to run to the lab and grab them. Unfortunately, I was wearing make-up. I grabbed my car keys and hoped that the rest of my team hadn't arrived yet.

When I got the locker room it appeared empty. Thanking god for the small favors I opened my locker and grabbed the tickets. I suddenly heard a loud thud behind me. I wasn't alone after all.

David Hodges was making out with Wendy Simms. More then I ever wanted to see. Oh well. I cleared my throat and they seemed to notice me. Hodges took in my outfit, and asked, "What you doing here?"

I looked right those beady eye of his and responded. "What are you doing?"

"Never mind."

I made a quick exit just as Grissom entered the room. He gave me an odd look, but didn't say anything. Good. I didn't have time to talk to him. Sofia was going to be at my place in a half hour.

My boss probably just figured, 'it's Greg' and then the eyeliner didn't seem quite so odd. They know I'm a little weird, just not exactly how weird, and I liked it that way. It's fun to keep people guessing sometimes.

I drove back to my apartment in record time to feed and walk Mutt before Sofia arrived.

**A/N: Here's the first real chapter. I posted the other one at midnight in my time zone, some I didn't write a whole lot. Thank you again for reviewing. I should be able to write one more chapter today. I like writing in this somewhat sarcastic tone, so this should a lot of fun. Panic! are in the next chapter. Please keep the reviews coming. **


	3. Panic! at the Disco

**Disclaimer: don't own Panic! Or CSI, but it was my idea to put them together. :p **

**Spoilers: Same as before**

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Not sure how much of Greg's childhood will be in here, but thanks for the idea. Panic! the Disco don't play that big a part in the story as a whole, but they seem like someone Greg would listen to, and they are from Vegas. Enjoy the new chapter! –Lefty**

Panic! At the Disco

Sofia knocked on apartment door just as Mutt was settling down on the couch for the evening. She was dressed causally, black pants with a nice dress shirt that brought out her blue eyes. She looked me over carefully. I was wearing jeans, a Fall Boy tee shirt with a dark jacket over it, eyeliner and black Converse shoes. I defiantly looked the part.

"What kind of band is?" she wondered. Guess the eyeliner threw her for a loop. Great, I might have just scared her off. Oh well, if I'm going fuck this up, I may as well have a good time doing it. Why the hell am I so nervous anyway? Sofia and I have been friends for years. We just don't do much together besides work.

"You'll see." I grabbed my iPod to play their album in my car. That ought to give her a better idea of what she's getting into. Meanwhile, she was saying hello to Mutt. She likes him, which is good as most of my visitors find him a little intimidating. How was I supposed to know that he was more over protective then my mother, and that's saying a lot. She gives him a good scratch behind the ears. Mutt wags his tail.

I grabbed my fedora, keys and wallet. Our tickets are in the glove compartment of my old Jetta. I know that car is almost as old as I am, but she's never let me down. At least it was clean, gets great gas mileage, and it's not like I can get a new car, unless Grissom decides to notice that I've been working my ass off and finally gives a promotion and a raise. Which will happen when I can see pigs flying by my second story window.

Sofia and I go to a nice restaurant before the show. Almost like a real date. I order the fish and she orders the steak. Which is very good, and while we wait, we talk about our coworkers. I mention what I saw in the locker room, because she doesn't work with Hodges much anyway, and it seemed a little funnier now then it an hour ago.

I know we shouldn't do this, but it is fun, and we're not hurting anybody. Sofia tells me her suspicions about Grissom and Sara. I order another drink.

We're talking and laughing when our food arrives. The sea bass is as good as I remember, and the wine is even better. Guess who's driving us to the concert. I'm pleasantly drunk, somewhere between tipsy and completely. Sofia's been drinking water, so I give her my keys, just to be on the safe side. With my luck, we'd get pulled over.

Sofia knows I'm been kind of stressed out of late, and doesn't mind driving. We had a great dinner, and so far the evening was going as planned, so there was I good chance that my smile wasn't completely alcohol induced. We reached the hotel they were playing at.

I love this band, and this should be a great show, and reminiscent of the glory days in old Las Vegas. I had played their album on the way here, and Sofia liked just as much as I did. They like to write things that shouldn't be funny, but are anyway. I know that the guitarist, Ryan Ross, and also the main songwriter, was influenced a by a writer called Chuck Palahniuk. I happen to own all of his books. His style is funny and disturbing at the same time. Kind of like what I'm writing here, only he does it better.

We pull into the parking lot and walk over to stage, showing a security guard our tickets. He directs us to the front row. We chat some more while we wait. She says that Warrick and his wife may be having issues, because Yoko Ono kept calling him at a scene.

My mom does the same ever since I was attacked at work. I love her death, but the woman drives me crazy. Of course, that incident still disturbs my sleep with nightmares every now and then. And the really screwed up part is that I felt worse about what I did to Demetrius James then what is friends did to me. Guess it's just my nature. It drives me up the wall sometimes. I suck at holding grudges, even when I want to.

I've got enough of my own problems, and don't need to hear about Rick's but I just nod while Sofia talks about it. Because I'm a good listener. That's just what her Greggo does. I'm good at making everyone but myself happy.

Brenden Urie and company take the stage. Ryan is wearing more make-up then Sofia, and in this crowd, she sticks out more then I do. I feel a lot less self-conscious now that we're here.

The band starts up with "The Only Difference Between Martyrdom and Suicide is Press Coverage." The show is amazing, like old time Vegas shows, with lights, girls, costumes, and lots of fun. Brenden is a natural. You'd never guess that he hasn't been doing this for very long. He and the rest of the band own that stage.

Ryan's is playing a solo, so Brenden starts dancing with the showgirls. Spencer and Jon, the other members, are having a great time, too. In the middle of a song, Brenden does a back flip. He's really agile.

But my point is, the show is amazing. And we had the best seats in house. Sofia is smiling and shouting at me, but I can't hear her over the music and the roar of a crowd. I can't even hear myself think. Which is the idea, of course, and we're both having fun.

Backstage, we get to meet the band and hang out with them. My ears are still ringing as Brenden Urie, Ryan Ross, Spencer Smith, and Jon Walker say hello. They're barely old enough to drink, but seem fairly mature. Of course, Brenden had one too many Red Bulls, and is bouncing off the walls. Kind of like me a few years ago. Jon has to threaten to tie up before he calms down.

I think they're just relieved the backstage passes weren't won by crazed teen fangirls. We were sharing a bottle of whiskey and having a real conversation.

We talked a lot about how messed and amazing this city is. Three out of four them are from Summerlin, and Ryan even happens to know Jim. We're all having a great time before I realize I'm about half past wasted and would regret it in the morning. At least in work nights. Now however, Sofia and I were having fun and they were even nice enough to give each of us an autographed copy of the album they are releasing later this summer.

We were sworn to secrecy about that, so don't tell anybody. Eventually we say goodbye and leave for my apartment. There's no way in hell I can drive home, so Sofia takes the wheel.

Naturally, Officer Metcalf stops us on the way home. I'm too drunk to do anything but giggle and wave. Sofia rolls her eyes and talks to him. I don't remember what they said, or most of the ride home, but Sofia got us back to my building.

I stumbled upstairs, and being completely wasted, walk straight into my apartment door. That was going hurt in the morning. Sofia can't help but laugh as I try to get up and fall down again. She takes pity on me and helps me unlock the door. Mutt smells the booze on me and is properly disgusted. I can barely walk. Sofia sighs. She doesn't want to leave alone like this because she probably understands what I've been through this past year better then anyone, and doesn't want me doing something stupid.

I don't remembering passing out on the couch, or Sofia staying over. After I passed out she walked Mutt for me and crashed in my room. This has happened to me more then I care to admit, even just to a journal. Sofia's a really good friend; I know she had fun tonight.

Of course, the call I get at eight A.M. wasn't nearly as fun. It's Grissom. Apparently same hiker stumbled across a rusty car in a dry riverbed. There was a body in it, and a lot of area to process. Great, I think. I'm hung over, over tired and my boss has not so kindly awakened me asking me to come.

"I'll be there." I promise. I ignore the pounding in head long enough to write Sofia a note and half heartedly wonder if we'll wind up in the same bed next time. Hhhmm, only if I wasn't the only one that was completely plastered. A quick shower and a change of clothes later, I'm almost good as new. Then I look in the mirror and see that my crash with the door left me looking a bit like a raccoon. I grinned at my reflection. This would be funny if happened to someone else. Got to love the Greg Sanders sort of luck. I grab a cup of black coffee and my old Aviators.

Those sunglasses hide a multitude of sins.

**A/N: New Chapter! Tell me what you think. It's longer then the others, but it was fun to write. I love Panic! at the Disco, and wanted to include them in a Vegas story. I'm thinking about making this a Greg/Sofia pairing, just to be a little different. I like Sandle, as you know, but I want to make this an usual story for me. I like writing in this style. The intro will make more sense in a few chapters, I promise. The further in we get, the easier it is to understand. This story will also show that even Greg has his breaking point, and I thought of a funny, yet meaningful ending. I can't tell much more, but I wish Panic! were really done recording the new album, but they've only just started. ;) **


	4. Panic! at the Crime Scene

**Disclaimer: not mine.**

**Spoilers: same**

**A/N: Thank you for reviewing! I think I will make this Greg/Sofia. It's an odd pairing, but I have a few ideas for it. This chapter's title kind of a joke, but there is lots of action here, and a little bit of Mother Nature whumping on poor Greggo, who makes an important decision here, or at least starts to. **

Panic! At the Crime Scene

So where was again? The next morning, very hung over, with a very attractive new bruise over my right eye, and Grissom had just me into work at least twelve hours early.

I'd say it was the beginning of the end, but that happened a long time ago. I double-check the directions the bugman gave me, and headed to the scene.

Grissom is the crazy, but brilliant type. He's a great CSI and knows more about bugs then anybody in the country. That's not an exaggeration. He's usually a good supervisor, even though he's not much of a people person. He doesn't play politics and doesn't bullshit people. It's one of the things about him I really admire. And one of reasons that his bosses find him irritating.

When I start the car, I play the CD I got last night at top volume so have I something to focus on besides the pounding in my head. I get to the scene, which is in a national park, the kind of place I like to take Mutt to on my days off, when Lake Mead is too crowded.

I stop my car a fair distance outside the yellow tape, grab my kit from the trunk and find out where Grissom wants me. He's talking to a park ranger, goofy straw hat and all. Maybe I should have worn my fedora. That way they'd figure out I'm as crazy as he is.

Anyway, he saw me and waved me over to him. He gives my sunglasses an odd look, because the skies are threatening rain. I don't want to take them off, though. Too many awkward questions, even if I really did just walk into a door. What CSI would believe that?

"Hi, Greg." Grissom says. He seems cheerful, and far more awake then he has any right to. Where as I will need other few cups of black coffee just to feel human again. "How are you?" Weird. Someone must've put happy pills in his coffee. Or he and Sara had a bit more fun then Sofia and I.

Heading pounding, I answer, "Never felt better. Where do you need me ?" I've been playing this game for so long I don't even realize what I'm doing anymore. Grissom would be less then pleased that I was coming into work with hangover. If he knew half as well as he thought he did, we would all be in trouble.

"Sara's processing the car in the ravine. Go give her a hand. Nick and I have the perimeter."

I nod and walk away. As I head toward the ravine, I see Jim frowning at me. He's got a much better idea of why I was wearing sunglasses when it wasn't sunny then Grissom did. Oh course, they were also making it hard to see. Once I'm fairly sure Grissom and Brass are busy with something else, I take them off just long enough to find a path down the ravine.

Sara probably knows why I'm wearing them to, as I'm not quite as talkative as I usually am. But we talk and joke while we help Super Dave pull the rotting corpse out of the rusted out car. Nothing like the smell of decomp in morning to make you feel alive. Yeah, we CSIs sure as hell ain't normal. Learning how to deal is hard part. Still working on that one.

Sara and I find the license plate still readable, and it's a New York plate. Brass run it to find the vehicle in question belongs to a serial killer from some New York cold case, so he calls an old friend who runs the dayshift CSI team for New York. I've got a friend who works the same shift, but we haven't talked in years. Last I heard from him, he was the medical examiner, and he thinks I'm still a lab rat. His first name is Sheldon, poor guy. I call him Hawk, as Hawkes is his last name. Not many people call him Sheldon. Who names a kid that anyway?

But I've babbling again. Jim says that Mac, that's his buddy's name, will be flying west with one of his CSIs.

Meanwhile the sky is turning darker, and Sara and I still have a lot of work to do. After stubbing my toe cause I can't see for the umpteenth time, I realize that these sunglasses are doing more harm then good, and tuck them into my vest pocket.

Meanwhile, Sara is staring at me when she sees the lovely shiner I got being too friendly with my front door. And those telltale red-rimmed eyes give away the hangover I've been fighting all day.

"You look terrible." That's another running joke, being brutally honest about that kind of thing.

"Thank you." I feel worse then I look, but that's the kind of thing where we need to work on being honest about.

"Seriously, are you okay?" Sara knows something's up. She does care about me a lot. Maybe that's why she hasn't told me about Grissom.

"Walked into a door." Much as I appreciate the concern, but I wish you drop it, I think

to myself. Why do you feel compelled to do this when I don't need to explain why I look like I hit the bar a bit too hard last night?

"Sure." But I could tell she didn't buy it, even though I really did walk into a door last night.

Then I felt the first few raindrops on my back. "We've got to pick up the pace or we'll lose everything." We hadn't found much to go on, anyway, and the car wasn't going anywhere without the aid a tow truck.

Sara turned back toward me when the rain started to pick up. I had a bad feeling this.

Suddenly, I felt a cold rush of water all around me. The force of the flood knocked me down, and pulled downstream before I could recover from the shock. Fortunately, years of scuba diving and surfing prevented me from panicking. I fought my way to surface and saw the rest of the team running towards us.

Then, I suddenly remembered Sara. Was she okay? While I was seeing if she had managed to surface the flood pulled me back down. I felt something metal cut into my leg as I was dragged with the current. I finally saw Sara fighting the current and losing. I swam over to her.

At first, she didn't seem to see me, and she was terrified. I finally got her attention and grabbed her. I looked at her, silently screaming at her to calm down before she drowned us both.

Sara seemed to be losing conciseness as I pulled us up for air again. By now, Grissom was waiting for us at the edge, fighting a bit of panic himself. As we broke the surface, the current almost pulled Sara out of my arms. I think I might've pulled some in my shoulder, but I hung on. I managed to get us over to Grissom and Nick. Grissom grabbed Sara, and pulled her out.

Nick grabbed hold of me and pulled me out the water. After a few minute of coughing and choking, I staggered to my feet, looking and feeling like a drowned rat.

"Are you okay?" Nick asked, obviously worried.

"More or less." I'm sore all over, my shoulder hurts like hell, and the leg I hurt is threatening to collapse from underneath me. It's also bleeding quite a bit, but I'm still breathing and I'm more worried about Sara anyway. "Is Sara okay?"

Nick nods. "She seems okay, but Jim all ready called the paramedics in to make sure you're both all right." I nod and start walking over to the Denali, where Grissom is talking to Sara. My injured leg buckles beneath me, but a very worried Texan catches me before I fall.

"Easy, Greggo. You need those paramedics more then she does."

"Thanks" I mutter sheepishly. Why I do always wind looking like the younger brother everyone needs to look out for?

Nick finally notices the long, deep, gash I gotten when my leg scraped something on that rusted out car. Lucky me. He looks at me and says, "You need to get that stitched up." No kidding. I nod as Nick helps me over to the Denali where Grissom and Sara are.

The rain is subsiding now, but it's freezing out here and I'm soaking wet. My hair winds up in my eyes, and Grissom looks up to see Nick leading a half drowned, shivering former lab rat over to him and Sara. Pathetic, right?

Then I notice the way he's holding her, and the look in her eyes. It may not be what I wanted, but they need each other. God, that sounds so sappy. Oh well.

My point is, I see how they are together and know that she'll be happy with him. Great. I want her to be happy, and anyway there's no way I could do that to Grissom. I feel a little funny but I know I'm going to have to get over the women I've loved from afar for seven years. Nice, huh? Just get over her, Greggo, just like that. At least I still get to be her best girlfriend. She certainly talks to me more then Catherine.

We sit together, just trying to collect ourselves the paramedics arrived. Yay, Hank the Shank is here to save us all. Lucky me.

**A/N: Long chapter, I've been working on this all day. This is an important realization on Greg's part. Next chapter should be up soon, and have more Sofia/Greg. Please review. Thanks. **

**-Lefty **


	5. SelfMedicating is a Bad Idea

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

**Spoilers: Same**

**A/N: Thanks to my lone reviewer. You are awesome! Anyway, this chapter we get a better look in Greg's head. And he and Sophia have a talk. Anyhow, without further ado, I give you my next chapter…(drum roll) In case you couldn't tell, I've been listening to Fall Out Boy a lot lately.**

Self-Medicating is a Bad Idea, but that's Never Stopped Anyone

So where were we, again? Oh right, Hank the Skank. A wonderful place to be. I hate him for what he did to Sara. What a dumbass. And now I have to trust him near me with sharp objects. What a wonderful place to be.

He and Nick helped me over to the ambulance while his partner talked to Sara. I wonder if that's because he's afraid that if he comes near enough, she'll kick in the balls or something. I would, expect Greggo's not a violent guy. Besides, my leg hurts too much to move. Great.

He injects me with something to numb my leg so he can stitch it up, cause there's no way in hell I'm going to the hospital. While he does this, he asks me if I have any other injuries. I tell him I think I pulled something in my shoulder, hanging on Sara so she didn't drown. And she's talking to his partner, still shaking, and seeking comfort in the arms of another man. It's not even them being together that bothers me anymore, it's them lying about it.

He nods and takes a look. Hank says it doesn't look serious, but really should go to hospital, an tells me to at least take it easy for a few days while he puts a dozen stitches in my leg. He informs it's going to hurt like a bitch later. Playing hero can be hazardous o your health, in more ways then one.

I nod, still shivering in my wet clothes. Pain or no pain, I have a lot of work to do on the case. And working stops me from finding my own temporary pain killer back in apartment. As a chemist, I know that self-medicating is a bad idea, but since when has that stopped anyone? Besides, I'm not taking anything illegal. Just caffeine or alcohol.

But if this keeps up, I may need something stronger. Of course, knowing that is only making the problem worse. You want know why I keep doing this to myself? So do I.

Grissom wants Sara and me to go home, but that's not happening. My leg doesn't hurt anymore, but not being able to feel it is still making it hard to walk. Oh well.

Sara thanks me on the way back to the lab. And Grissom doesn't say it right out, but I know he's proud of me. I feel a little better for moment. We were taking my car back for some reason, but I wasn't driving. Grissom also asks about my eye, and tell him the truth, but he doesn't believe it. Why can't someone just walk into the door?

That's not the real issue, but I don't want to talk about what is. Not yet.

Back at the lab, Nick loans me a pair of his jeans and a belt, as I don't have any dry clothes in my locker at the moment. His pants are way too big, but the belt holds up. I am a little taller then, but not enough for you to notice, but also a lot skinnier.

Sara and process the car, not finding much. Doc Robbins gets a bullet from our victim, his DNA making a hit man from New York City. Mac Taylor and whomever he took with him are still en route to Sin City.

Sara and I do find one important thing after hours of digging through the car, in a hidden compartment. It's a gun, the same kind most of my colleges carry. Bobby is still processing it when the pain in leg catches up with me.

I take a seat on the break room couch, waiting for some fresh coffee when Sofia walks in. She wants to talk to me, so she sits down next to me and notices the faint tremors that I get in my hands still. It's more then just too much caffeine causing them. Now it doesn't happen a lot, but more then it should ever since the Demetrius James thing. Something tells me I'm not really past it, because drinking to ease the guilt I'm feeling isn't solving anything.

Sofia knows that the fact that can't sleep has nothing to do with my screwed up schedule. She also knows I been drinking way too much recently, and not just because passing out on my couch is almost as good as really sleeping. She's also really worried about me.

I feel a little better talking to her about this then my best friend, Sara because Sofia understands. And I know that. Sara's got enough of her own issues. I fake a smile for her. She takes one of my hands, and for a moment they stop shaking. There's an odd tension between us, but it feels good. I know can open up to her eventually.

Sofia looks at me, knowing that I'm not as fine as I say I am. I do talk to her, but not about everything yet. But she gives me my space, just making sure I don't do anything to terrible to myself. I know I can trust her, but can't talk about something I'm not ready to deal with myself. The guilt, anger, and frustration are building inside me, even after trying to help Mrs. James. I wish I knew what to do with it.

Sofia leans toward me and whispers that it's not my fault. I smile at her, a real one this time. I know that, but the guilt is still there. And the fact that the city I serve thinks it is my fault. Sofia knows, but she won't push. That tension is there again.

Just then Brass walks in, taking in my black eye. Before he asks, I tell I walked into a door.

"Yeah right."

Sofia tells himthat I really did just walk into a door, but doesn't tell him why. He raises an, eyebrow at us, but just says Mac Taylor should be here soon, and tells Sofia about something at the station, but I'm not listening anymore. I'm falling asleep on the couch. I feel better for a moment, sitting next with a friend. The feelings are still there, but my body is demanding real sleep. I know I should talk about them, but can't do it with most of my friends. They are all ready worried enough.

I fall asleep on a couch again.

**A/n: Another chapter down! Not as long as the others, but there is a lot here. Greg isn't quite OOC, but by now you know that. I love reviews, and thanks for reading. **


	6. The Trouble with Sleeping

**Disclaimer: not mine. **

**Spoilers: same**

**A/n: Imagine my surprise when I came home from work to find so many reviews! You guys are awesome, and made the whole night better. (I hate my job, but have just earned a degree and will get one I like soon… at least I hope so) PicseanPal, it's okay, I know people have real lives. Good luck with your garden. racefh853629**, **thank you very much, glad you liked the title. Alexnandru Van Gordon**, **thank you very much. Getting into Greg's inner workings is the reason I'm writing from his point of view, so I'm glad to hear that somebody thinks I'm doing that very well.**

**I think that's everyone. Anne, thanks for taking the time to review! Thank you all again, and on with the story! (yeah another Fall Out Boy-ish title.)**

**-Lefty**

The Trouble With Sleeping is That You Never Get Quite Enough

Where were we? Passed out on the couch, waiting to meet the one and only Mac Taylor. Nice guy, really, and a Marine through and through. Just wish he'd chill out once in a while.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. I've fallen asleep on the break room couch after talking to Sofia. I don't know what I would do without her.

Next thing I know, Warrick is pouring coffee and yakking into his cell phone. Telling her all about how unpredictable the job is. Like she didn't know that before marrying him. Can't he see that I'm trying to sleep? Shut up all ready.

Finally he sighs and hangs up. I move a bit, because sleeping on this couch is doing wonders for my sore shoulder. Oh well. I don't want to get up just yet, but then Rick decides to notice me.

"Sorry, Greg. Didn't mean to wake you." He really means it, to.

"It's okay." Because Greggo is such an easygoing guy. I don't move from he couch, as my leg still hurts and I don't trust it quite yet. "I should get up soon anyway."

Warrick looks at me for moment. "Any special reason you're wearing Nick's pants?"

Then Mac Taylor enters the room. He's somewhere around six feet tall, or just under it, with dark hair and serious, hazel eyes. Mac looks a little bit like the late Michael Keppler, only older. Somebody that looks very familiar follows him. Taylor looks around, obviously looking for somebody.

I sit up and get a better look at the guy following him. It's my friend, Hawkes. We had know each other when I lived in New York, but had lost touch a while ago.

"Excuse me," Mac says, "We're looking for either Greg Sanders or Sara Sidle."

The trouble with sleeping is you never get quite enough.

I limp to my feet and Mac shifts his attention to me. He turns to see a tired, caffeine addicted kid with scraggily hair that's sticking up, not on purpose for once, a black eye, and wearing jeans that are two or three sizes too big, and is slowly falling apart. Excellent first impression, right?

"I'm CSI Sanders." I say. Mac looks annoyed, probably because I wasn't what he expected, and clearly been taking a nap while he and Hawk flew over here to chase down a hot lead on an important case. "Detective Taylor, I presume." I shake his hand and quickly stick my hands in my pockets, not needing him to pick up on those faint tremors. I don't need to explain myself to a complete stranger when I don't even want to talk most of my friends about this.

Rick's pager goes off and he excuses himself, leaving me alone with Hawkes and a very serious looking fellow. Hawkes looks at me and finally says hello. My old friend barely even recognized me. Wonderful.

"I thought you were in San Francisco." He wasn't expecting to run into me again. He looks at me knowing that there's something not quite right, but can't figure out what.

I force another smile to let him know that I'm still Greg Sanders, goofy, smart-ass kid only with a few more scars to show, physical and emotional. "Needed a change of scenery. And I thought you were a medical examiner." I'm not really surprised that he was now a CSI. Hawkes had always liked fieldwork a lot more then hiding in a morgue.

Mac gives Hawkes a confused look, so he explains that we were friends back when my family lived in New York. Mac sighs and says that Jim said to find Sara or me to bring them up to speed on the case at hand. I don't think he likes me very much. Oh well, that's his problem. I've got enough of my own to deal with.

I tell him what we have so far. DNA had confirmed we had a sadistic, dead hitman by the name of Jason Thomas. Sara and I found a probable murder weapon in the car, but the flash flood had washed away most of the evidence.

Mac nods as I lead them to ballistics. My leg is a bit stiff, so I'm limping as we walk. Hawkes notices this, but doesn't say anything.

Bobby should have something for us by now. On the way over, Hawkes and I catch up a bit, but I don't tell about the explosion or Demetrius James. I don't want to deal with either and he doesn't need to know. Taylor just listens, still not sure what to make of the young criminalist, who, at the moment, looked more some strung out tweaker. Hawkes is slowly figuring out that I'm not really the same kid he played chess with fifteen years ago.

We finally reach ballistics, where Bobby is telling Sara about the gun we found. She smiles when she sees me, and I quickly make the introductions. She says hello and Bobby tells us that gun is indeed our murder, weapon, and it belonged to a Las Vegas police officer.

That didn't help very much, as the gun had been reported stolen weeks ago. We would talk to the original owner, but it wouldn't help much, and nobody wanted to here this could be a vigilante cop trying to cover his tracks. The last time I found something that threatened his public image, he almost had me suspended.

That just makes us all look bad, and I know the under sheriff doesn't want to hear it. All he wants to do is cover his own ass and make the citizens of Las Vegas believe that this city is a safe place.

My colleges and I know better. Nick's looking over soil samples with Hodges so we can put a suspect at the scene when we find one. Grissom and his bugs are proving T.O.D. so we can figure out if he was shot before the gun was supposedly stolen. I just hope this isn't what I think it is. The fact that we going have to talk to a cop about this is also going to make Brass less then happy with us CSIs.

Like it's our fault that there may be a cop involved.

Sara calls him with the update, and he's not happy about it, but he tries to track down the down the officer, who has disappeared. Lucky us.

Grissom eventually finds out the guy was, in fact, dead a few days before the gun was reported missing. The under sheriff and Brass are not happy, and our main suspect has disappeared.

So, to recap, Taylor isn't happy about working with me, I've got my own issues and have for a while, my leg and shoulder both hurt like hell, Brass and the under sheriff aren't happy that our only suspect is a cop, and that suspect has disappeared. Happy little Greggo's going wind up with an ulcer before this is over.

I'm tempted to swipe the bottle of Scotch that Brass keeps in his desk.

**A/n: Short chapter, but we learn a lot about the case, none of it good. Greg's feeling the stress of it all. Many thanks to my reviewers. There is a lot of Sofia in next chapter, and a little bit of excitement. I may even start on it tonight. **


	7. Shut up, Hodges!

**Disclaimer: not mine still**

**Spoiler: Same**

**A/n: Thank you to my reviewers! If this chapter goes the I think it will, their shouldn't be too much left, but I am thinking about a sequel, maybe a crossover with Close to Home, if I can remember the name of the detective that Annabeth was with last season. It may even include Matt Glaser from "Hollywood Brass" for a moment. This title is kind of silly.**

**-Lefty**

Shut Up, Hodges!

Where were we? Talking about the case an getting an ulcer? Makes sense. We had just discovered our best suspect was a missing cop. Grissom, Brass, and the others were telling Under-Sheriff McCain about the situation. I was listening to my iPod in another room, as I didn't want to be anywhere near Under-Sheriff Asshole.

I was feeling a little sick, but figured that was me being way too stressed out. I wasn't like, really sick, just not feeling quite like myself. Well, like normal. I hadn't been feeling like myself for a while.

Listening to music at top volume was helping me relax a little bit but not enough. I really was considering swiping the bottle of Scotch in Brass's desk.

I was lost in my own thoughts, thinking about the fact that I was not likely to get through this with my sanity in tact. Hawkes damn near gave me a heart attack when he tapped me on the shoulder.

I hate it when people sneak up on me like that. I always had, but more then ever since I was attacked and kicked half to death for trying to save a guy's life. And the city would rather make it look like I did something wrong then risk looking bad in front of the voters. Nice, huh? Like I didn't feel bad enough about what happened to the college kid that was trying to kill me. I may have lost my sanity a long time ago.

Anyway, Hawkes was almost as surprised as I was when he startled me. Before the nice, easygoing Greggo that everyone thought I was could say hello to his old friend, I found myself snapping at him. "Damn it, Hawk. Don't do that!" Oops.

"Sorry. Are you okay?" He knew that something wasn't right with me. But we hadn't really talked for almost ten years, and telling him what was wrong wasn't going to happen.

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure? Because as a doctor, I can tell you don't look so good." Why can't anyone mind their own business?

"Just tired." What do you want, anyway?

"Okay." But I could tell he didn't believe me. Hell, I didn't believe me. "So, what's going on?"

The under sheriff is getting pissed off about something that isn't even our fault. "My colleges are just bringing Under-Sheriff McCain up to speed on what we've got so far."

We sit in silence for moment. Then, Taylor appears and Hawkes walks over to talk to him. I can't hear them over Fall Out Boy telling us "This ain't a Scene, it's an Arms Race." But I see the two of them talk for a second. Mac looks over to me for a second.

Great, he thinks I'm nuts, too. Oh well.

Then I see McCain walking out of the conference room, looking angry about something. He sees me watching him and walks over. Beautiful. I'm going to have to talk to him anyway. I take out my ear buds as he approaches.

"You think this is funny, Sanders?" What's he doing?

"I don't understand, sir." I almost choke on the word sir, but I'm being respectful even if he is trying to pick a fight.

"Do you have any idea how bad a vigilante cop makes us look?" Does he think this is my fault?

"Yes, sir." Sir. That word is turning into a curse.

"And that's the only theory you have?" This man is a jackass.

"That's what the evidence says, sir." I'm not going to take the bait and give him that satisfaction.

McCain stalks off, very angry and in search someone else to take it out on.

I shake my head and pull my hands out of my pockets. They're shaking, and won't stop. I put them back in my pockets before someone sees. If Grissom fund out, he'd send to a shrink, and after what's happened to me this year, I'm afraid of what they might find.

I leave the room and start walking toward the locker room, because Brass, Nick and I are going to check the officer's house. I'm almost there when Hodges stops by and decides to harass me. He obviously missed the dangerous glint in my eye.

"I heard you went for a little swim today." Shut up, Hodges.

"Hodges I don't have for this." Hodges pouts, disappointed that I don't want to play with him. But he doesn't give up.

"What's the matter, Sanders? Sheriff got you down? Cause you should know going after a cop opens a political can of worms." He's talking to me about politics?

I don't know what happened next, but a flash of all that anger, and frustration is rushing through my head. Hodges thinks he knows all about politics. Like he's ever been on the wrong end of political damage control. All he understands is kissing ass or covering it. Without even thinking, I punch him as hard I can. He drops to the floor as I realize what I just did.

Out of nowhere, Nick grabs hold of my arm and throws me to floor before I hit Hodges again. My sore shoulder screams in protest as I fall. What the hell did I just do?

Part of me has wanted to do that for years, even though I'm horrified by what just happened.

My shoulder throbs painfully. If it wasn't badly hurt before, it sure as hell is now. My hand also throbs. I might've broken it when I hit Hodges.

Hodges is still starring at me in shock. He's cowering on floor, bleeding from his nose. Guess my hand isn't the only thing I broke.

He finally recovers enough to climb to feet, still watching me like badly frightened dog. I don't move, other then holding injured arm. Nick may be a inch shorter then me, but he's also a lot stronger, and outweighs me by at least fifty pounds. I don't need him thinking that I'm going do something. He looks more concerned about me then Hodges, but does anyone really like that guy.

"Greg, what the…?" he starts.

He's interrupted by the arrival of Sofia. She looks at me cowering on the floor, the bleeding David Hodges and Nick. It doesn't take much to figure out what happened.

Hodges takes advantage of the distraction and leaves. Nick looks at me again, but I don't want to talk to him, so he explains the situation to Sofia. She looks over at me sadly, and sees that I'm hurt.

"I'll take care of him. You go make sue Hodges is all right." Nick senses that Sofia wants to speak to me alone. He nods and leaves.

"What's matter with you?" She asks. She sounds sad and worried. All I can do is shake my head. Sofia helps me up and feels that my skin is hot to the touch. Guess I really am sick. "You need to see a doctor." And there's no arguing with her, so she quickly calls Nick and tells him she's taking me to the hospital.

On the way over, I finally find that can speak in complete sentences again; so I start talking to her again, to help both of us understand why I just knocked Hodges on his ass.

I find myself fighting back tears, though I'm not sure why I'm crying. But Sofia just listens to me and lets me talk, especially after she sees how badly my hands shaking now.

While we're waiting for somebody to x-ray my hand and my shoulder, she gives a hug and says I'll be okay. That funny tension is there again. We sit closer together. Sofia holds my hand, and it's not shaking anymore.

I realize that I need her with me, and she must feel something, to. I lean closer, but then the doctor arrives.

**A/n: Long Chapter! No as Sofia as I thought, and this probably the most romantic stuff I've written in a long time. Please tell what you think! Thank you.**

**That doctor has terrible timing, LOL**

**-Lefty**


	8. Stay Out of the Trace Lab

**Disclaimer: still not mine. **

**Spoilers: same**

**A/n: Thank you for reviewing! Alexnandru Van Gordon, Thanks for taking the time to leave a review. The season finale was not as good as I expected, but that's because the major cliffhanger annoyed the heck out of me. I won't say anymore in case you don't want to know. Trix, thanks for your suggestion, but I don't do sex scenes very well and I'm trying to this rated T. ****racefh853629, thanks for reviewing. Thanks to all of you and I think Hodges needed something like that to happen just so he knows being a pain in the ass on purpose isn't the best approach to talking with coworkers. **

I'd Stay Out of the Trace Lab for Awhile

Where were we? At the hospital with Sofia, when the doctor decides to wander a few seconds to soon. It figures. That Greg Sanders luck again. Oh well.

Anyway, after a few x-rays, he told us that my shoulder was dislocated, and I had broken a knuckle on my hand. I wasn't surprised.

He also figured out that I had a nasty infection from the cut on my leg, so the doctor gave me some antibiotics and said I should have gone to the hospital when it first happened. Hank the Skank was right, but I'm not going tell him that. Doctor whatever his name is tells me I need to take a few days off work. I nod. When Ecklie finds out that I hit his little lap dog, a suspension is the least I'm going to get.

Sofia tells the doctor she'll make sure I go home and stay there. That makes me smile. I want to talk to her alone anyway, and somewhere that a random doctor will walk in at the wrong moment.

The doctor leaves, so Sofia and I have a moment to ourselves before some comes in to set my hand. We look at each other for a moment. I'm trying to decide if it's a good idea to pick up where we left off. Finally, I offer her a weak smile.

"Thanks." She returns my smile, with no more words necessary. Instead, she makes the next move, and pulls me close. I feel better with her here. Before I start over thinking this like I always do, I lean over and kiss her, and not a 'just friends kiss' either. She surprises me and pulls me even closer. It's several moments before we both need to come up for air.

Someone clears their throat to get our attention. We both look up to find that Grissom and Brass caught us making out like a couple of horny teenagers in the backseat of dad's car. Lucky us. I don't know whether to laugh, cry, or run like hell.

I almost laugh just break up the awkward silence. Grissom looks completely dumbfounded. Brass just raises an eyebrow at us.

"Sanders, Sofia?" he says to her in an amused tone. "You can do better then him, you know."

"I'm sitting right here." Brass just rolls his eyes. This is ridiculous.

Grissom finally says something. "Nick said you finally lost it and decked Hodges for some reason."

"He started it." I sound like I'm twelve, not thirty-two. All three of them just glare at me. "How mad is he?"

"Well, he's not pressing charges or anything, but I'd stay out of the trace lab awhile. I know that won't happen. I should apologize to him, especially if I ever want my samples processed in a reasonable amount of time.

"So exactly how much trouble am I in?" I hate waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Grissom looked at me. "You are suspended for at least a week." My irritation must've showed, because he continued, "Don't look at me like that. You're lucky it's not worse. Hodges convinced Ecklie not to fire you."

I'm amazed he would do that. Maybe Hodges isn't such a jerk, after all.

Grissom continues, "You will have see the department psychologist before you can come back."

Great. I groan. "I don't need a shrink."

"Yeah, it's perfectly normal for you to hit coworkers." Brass has a point. Maybe I do need more than just some time off. But I know Sofia will be more helpful then talking to a stranger.

Grissom adds, "After talking the rest of the team, Ecklie decided that it may do you some good, that you seemed a little off anyway." I wonder who else Ecklie has been talking to. "Believe it or not, I do notice these things." Grissom just answered my question for me. He agrees with Ecklie.

Another person walks into the room. It's doctor what's name, here to set my hand and shoulder. He looks at Grissom. "Are you his boss?" Grissom nods. "Mr. Sanders shouldn't be back in work for at least a week."

I laugh. For some reason that seems incredibly funny. They all look at me. I guess they don't get the joke.

Sofia nods. "As I said earlier, I'll make sure he gets home and stays there."

"I'll bet." Maybe I should take sarcasm lessons from Brass. To her credit, Sofia ignores him.

Doctor whoever takes care of my hand and shoulder. My hand is some in some kind of cast to stop me from moving it too much, and my arm is in a sling.

Sofia's driving me home again. On the way, we talk a bit, but soon the meds they gave me for the pain are taking affect, and I'm slurring my words as we pull into my buildings parking lot. We go in the building, and Mutt is there when I unlock the door, needing a walk. I sit on the couch for a minute, but Sofia stops me. "The only one that's going to be allowed to sleep on that lumpy old thing is your dog."

I smile, wishing whatever they gave at the hospital wasn't making so sleepy. I feel a lot more like myself, but I know I've still got some issues to work out. And Sofia will be there to help me do that.

Sofia takes Mutt outside for a minute while I head for my own room. I'm almost asleep by the time she comes back.

She goes into my bedroom, and I mumble something that sounds 'I love you' for falling asleep. She ruffles my hair and says she loves me, too.

**A/n: Ahhh! I can't believe I just wrote such a sappy end to a chapter. Oh well. LOL. There's a little humor in there, and next time we get to talk to Hodges, and learn something interesting about him. Also, the case gets some what resolved as well a funny scene between Greg, Grissom and Sara. Please feel free to comment on my excessive sappiness, if you think I overdid it. If not, please drop a review anyway. Thanks. **

**-Lefty **


	9. Who do you think you're kidding?

**Disclaimer: Not mine. **

**Spoilers: Same**

**A/n: I meant to start this earlier, but my little sister is having her birthday party today, so my house is full of giggling twelve-year-old girls, and I baked them Tollhouse Chocolate chip cookies from scratch served right out of the oven. (Yum) It's also about 90 degrees in here. Thank you all for taking the time to review. And now on with the story. **

Who you think you're fooling, anyway?

Where were we? Passed out from the meds they gave me? Right. Sofia wouldn't let me sleep on the couch, at least. Last thing I remembered was Sofia telling me that she loved me, to.

I was lying in bed when I felt something tickling my feet. I shifted slightly, not wanting to get up just yet. Whatever it was nudged me again. I sat up to find that Mutt had wandered into my room again. I need to train Mutt to left me sleep in once in a while. He looked at me and wagged his tail, hoping for a walk. I sat up and looked around.

Somebody was wandering around in the kitchen. I figured it was Sofia. She wasn't going to leave me alone. The clock said that it was around noon. I got up and went to see what she was doing.

It smelled like someone was making coffee. It was coffee, to, not the motor oil that Ecklie was trying to pass off as coffee. I eagerly entered the kitchen. Sofia was mixing something. She didn't seem to notice me until I opened a cabinet to grab a coffee mug.

"Morning." She smiled at me.

I smirked. "Afternoon, actually." It didn't really matter what time it was, really.

Sofia shrugged. "Then why I am making breakfast?" She had a point.

"I meant, good morning Sofia. Thank you for making breakfast." I remembered that I didn't have a lot of real food in house. It's too much effort to cook for one person. "What are you making, anyway?"

"Chocolate chip pancakes." Should have guessed. "I went shopping a little while ago. Do you have any actual food here or do you just eat take out menus?"

I laugh. "I'm not sure." Most of what's in fridge could qualify as one of Grissom's experiments. I pour myself a cup of coffee awkwardly. I need to get used to being able use my right hand for a little while.

The two us enjoy some of the best chocolate chip pancakes I've ever eaten. When I ask why that's what she decided to cook, she said it was one of few things she cook without setting off a fire alarm. I laughed and told her that my mother made learn to cook. I make a mean fettuccini alfredo.

After we have breakfast, or lunch, whatever you want to call, I tell her that I need to get back to lab.

She reminds me that I'm not supposed to be anywhere near the lab. I tell that I just want to get a few things out my locker and I need to apologize to Hodges. He deserves an explanation, at least.

Sofia says that she's not sure if that's a good idea, but agrees to drive me down there. We arrived a little while later. Sofia said she had some paperwork to catch up on so she went to PD while I decided to find Hodges.

He was sulking in a corner of the trace lab. He was also wearing a bandage over his nose. I almost laughed when I saw him, but was a little more upset when I saw what I had done to him. Hodges may be annoying, but he didn't deserve that.

I cautiously entered the lab. He turned toward me and I walked over to him slowly. Hodges watched carefully.

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

"I came here to apologize." He was still a bit suspicious.

"Okay." Hodges wasn't quite sure how to answer that.

"I'm sorry that I over-reacted to what you said. I know this isn't really much of an excuse, but I've been more then a little stressed out these days. I let it get out of control and took it out on you." I paused, expecting some snarky comment in return. His answer surprised me.

"I'm sorry, to. I know you've had a lot of problems recently, and was acting like an ass." He is an ass, but that's beside the point. "I know you weren't acting like yourself and should have left you alone when you asked me to."

"In that case, I'll try not keep all this frustration bottled up and …"

"I can try not to be such an ass. Truce?" I nodded and offered him uninjured hand. I hadn't been expected this. Hodges took my hand we shook on it. I was still curious about one thing.

"I just have one question. Why didn't you let Ecklie fire my ass?" I had wondered about that.

Hodges shrugged. "This lab needs you. The truth is, I do respect you, even if I don't always show it. You are one the best CSIs around and we need you."

I smirked. "Is that a roundabout way of saying you like having me around?"

"I wouldn't go that far." Typical Hodges, but his answer had surprised me.

"Asshole. And thanks." I said. He grinned at me.

"Don't get used to it. When you come back here in week, back to your annoying self, don't expect any special treatment."

"Wouldn't dream of it." I walked away, only find myself face-to face with Conrad Ecklie.

"You're not supposed to be here." Nice to see you, too.

"I only came to apologize to Hodges." Ecklie just shook his head and walked away, wondering what the hell was going on in what he thought of as his lab, and, like usual, having no clue.

After he left, I took a quick walk to see if the person who really runs this lab was around. Grissom was in his office with Sara. They were talking intimately about something before I made my presence known.

They both jumped a mile and acted like I had caught them doing something that they shouldn't be. I can't take this game anymore. I have to tell them I know.

"Who do you two think you're kidding, anyway?" I raised an eyebrow at them. They just stared at me.

"What are you talking about?" Grissom decided to play dumb, which he just isn't very good at.

"Give it up. I know about you guys. I'm not going to run off and tell the entire world. Or worse, Catherine." I was only half joking. The lab's official gossip would tell the entire world for me, even if she didn't mean to.

We stand in silence for a moment. Then, Sara asks "How long have you known?"

"Months. I will keep this quiet, but they'll figure it eventually." I warned them. Then I decided to change the subject before this got any more awkward. "How goes the case?"

"Turns out the cop did shoot our hit man. But his buddies got to him before we did. Taylor and Hawkes are working on it." I nodded. I knew I needed to get going soon. I said my goodbyes and headed for the locker room.

**A/n: I meant to post this earlier, but we lost power during a severe thunderstorm for a while. It was one of the worst storms I've seen here in a while, with hail the size of a US nickel and tons of rain. When the power came back on, I started watching a DVD with my brother and time got away from me. Anyhow, please leave a review. We still at least one more chapter and an epilogue. When I the first part of this chapter, I wanted chocolate chip pancakes for some reason, and wanted them in my story. Thank you for reading, and please leave a review.**

**-Lefty **


	10. this Brings us Where we started

**Disclaimer: Still not mine…**

**Spoilers: Same**

**A/n: Thank you all for taking the time to review. This should be the last regular chapter, but I am going to write an epilogue and may even do a sequel where Sophia and Greg switch roles, sort of. The story will still be Greg-centric, though and I may include other characters from Close to Home, but I'm not sure yet. It will also focus a little more the case, but will still have lots of good character stuff. Thanks again. On with the story! **

And I Guess This Brings Us Back to the Beginning

Where were, again? On my way out of the lab to take a whole week off? Okay. I had just gone into the locker room to my iPod, laptop, and a few other things out of my locker when Nick entered the room, getting ready for his shift.

"What are you doing?" He seemed surprised to see me.

"Just getting a couple of things out of my locker and patching things up with Hodges." Nick nodded.

"Good. Otherwise you'd never get anything processed in the trace lab on time." Nick paused. "Sorry about your shoulder, by the way."

I shrugged. If Nick hadn't been stopped I would've probably strangled Hodges. "Don't worry about it."

"By the way, can you do me a favor?" I looked at him, wondering what he wanted.

"What is it?"

"Talk to somebody before you start hitting people. We care about you, ya know. Nobody can help you if they don't know that something's wrong." He had a point.

"Will do. And thanks." I know keeping things bottled up is not good, but don't really want my friends that worried about me. Then again, not talking to them can make them more worried about me.

As I turn to leave, Mac Taylor and Hawkes enter the room. They both aren't quite sure what happened yesterday, but know I was pulled off the case for some reason. Mac thinks I'm at least a little odd, and Hawkes knows I hadn't been acting quite like myself.

I can't help but wonder what Grissom told them. "Hi, guys." I greeted them. They both looked surprised that I'm here.

"Hi, Greg. I thought you were pulled off the case, and were supposed to be taking some time." Hawkes said. "Something about you being sick?" I certainly looked a bit ill, thanks to the infection.

"Just on my way out. Needed to get a few things out of my locker." They didn't need to hear about me losing it and hitting a coworker. Taylor thinks I'm crazy enough as it is. "Any word on the case?" I'm still curious about what happened to our suspect. Wouldn't be much of a CSI if I wasn't.

"Apparently the hit man still has some friends. Our suspect was murdered and it looks like a mob hit. I'd be surprised if we get anything useful. Whoever killed him was a pro." Mac seemed thoroughly irate about the fact that they were now chasing a ghost.

"Well, good luck." I walk out and leave them to talk about the case with Nick. I go aver to PD to find Sofia. She's at her desk, filling out some papers and talking to Brass about something. They see me, and Sofia says something to Brass, who nods and she walks over to me.

The two of us head home for the rest of the evening. We hang out and have great time, ordering pizza and playing video games. She spends the night at my place again.

Sofia comes over to stay with me every night that week, and helps me work out some of my own issues. I love her more then anything and don't know what I'd do without her. Yeah, a little sappy, but that's how I feel. We soon start looking for a place together.

Which bring me to the meeting with the department shrink. It isn't quite as bad I thought it would be. He comes up the suggestion for keeping a journal, and says almost the same thing Nicky told me in the locker room, that I need to talk to someone before things get out of hand, etc. He is glad when I tell him about Sofia, and says I'm lucky to have her. I tell him I know that, and that's really about all I can say about that.

He tells Grissom that I should be okay to go back to work when the week is up, and after writing this all down, I do feel a lot better. I kind of like this journal thing. It does help me work through some things, and between that and Sofia I almost like myself again.

**A/n: This chapter is a little short, but it does sort of wrap this story. Thank you all for reading this and reviewing. I still have a small, but kind of funny thing to put at end of this. It has something to do with Grissom, but I won't give anything else away. I'm probably going to write a sequel, but haven't thought of a title yet, but it should be up soon. Again, it's not pure romance, because I'm not god at that kind thing. It's set a few years later, and does include an OC. Thanks again for reading,**

**-Lefty**


	11. Dear Grissom

**Disclaimer: not mine**

**Spoilers: same**

**A/n: Thank you for reviewing! This will be the last part of this story, but the next will be up late tonight or early tomorrow. It seems like minor point, but there is an interesting typo at the end of chapter 10 that I didn't notice it until the end, but I think it may work better then what meant to say. I meant to type 'I almost ****feel**** like myself again' but skipped a word (as you may have noticed, I do that when I'm typing too fast) so it reads 'I almost like myself again.' Just thought that was interesting. Anyhow, here's the last bit. Hope you all enjoyed it.**

**-Lefty**

Grissom,

I know that I'm supposed to talk you about what happened with Hodges before returning for work, but you weren't in your office.

I thought I'd myself a little bit of time, because I have at least a week's worth of paperwork to catch up on, so instead of spending hours telling you about I thought I'd let you read this journal the shrink said I should write. It actually helped more then I thought it would, and I think it will give you more understanding of what happened then talking to me would. Besides, I've got a lot of work to do and you know where to find after you read this.

Anyhow, they say brevity is the soul of wit, whoever they are. I hope this gives you some kind of understanding of I did to Hodges.

Talk to you later,

Greggo

**A/n: short and sweet. It's a little silly but I thought Grissom should read this. Thank you again for reviewing, and if you didn't review, thanks for reading at least. I hope you enjoyed this story, and the next should be up soon. **

**-Lefty**


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